Lights Shadow
by RobbieSz
Summary: An epic adventure that ventures into the minds of very brave, noble warriors in the land of Maplestory.


Lights Shadow

Robbie sighed. He stood in the town square of Ellinia, waiting. Jason was supposed to have arrived hours ago. He was yet to be seen. Robbie sat down on the lip of an ornamental fountain behind him and put his head in his hands. He was so bored, he turned to study the fountain he sat upon.

It was carved out of a beautiful smooth limestone, and the ornament in the centre was a figure of a beautiful woman. The statue had large and beautiful angel wings, and she held a staff in one of her hands and a book in the other. The face of the statue was calm and cooling; the face was beautiful and looked as angelic as the very wings on her back. Around her feet were several diagonally oriented jugs, each sending a stream of water into the bowl of the fountain. As well, the water seemed to come from the statue itself, somehow. Robbie sighed again. The statue and fountain were his favourite sights in all of Ellinia; strange how he had scarcely noticed it in the past. Sighing again, he cupped his head into his hands and tapped his foot.

The square was abandoned; everyone must've been at work. It was really unusual for the main hub of the city to be empty on a business day. Not so much as a merchant showed his face in the town square. Robbie grumbled to himself and began thinking about his life before joining Shaman and the Clerics of Ellinia.

He was once an ordinary boy, son of Kyle and Gina. He was never far from ordinary, save for his desire to succeed in any endeavour he undertook. His father had raised him to be that way; his mother often commented on how much Robbie acted like his father. His childhood had been simple and humble, his father had a day job as a blacksmith and his mother was a seamstress. Young Robbie had always dreamed of becoming a swordsman, and his favourite gift ever given to him was a wooden practice sword his father had made for him when he was nine; he still had the sword in the trunk he kept all of his belongings in. Robbie had planned to pass it down to his son if he ever got married, though as a Cleric, that was never going to happen. His second favourite gift was the golden scarf he always wore; it was sewn by his mother for an especially cold Ellinia winter. He took to wearing it so much, he was hardly seen in public without it.

Jason, who descended from Barbarian blood, sought to become a swordsman too, and they became fast friends. Eventually, the two essentially became brothers in all aspects save for relation. The two fought, argued, worked together, and traveled together for a long time. The loud warrior had been Robbie's fencing partner for the longest time, and both of the warrior's skills improved tenfold after their informal training. His life was grand, that is, until his fifteenth birthday.

When he reached the age of fifteen, he sought to get a job in his father's blacksmith shop until he could apply to become a High Cleric. Robbie was never able to sign up for one reason or another; he was too young, the recruiter wasn't in, filing records, you name it. His father was indeed able to get a job for the young rascal in the blacksmith shop. On his first day, there came two people who were particularly interested in buying a pair of unusual and difficult to find weapons. The two visitors were rather adamant about the weapons they wanted, and refused to pay the reasonable price Robbie's father had placed on the two items they desired. The two warriors stormed away after refusing to haggle. After work, Robbie was cornered by Jason, who invited him over to his house for dinner. Kyle gave Robbie the okay, and he had a rather merry time with Jason's family. He thought his life really couldn't get much better. When he finally reached home, he decided to take a peek into the window in his living room to see what his parents were up to. He caught sight of something no one should ever see: the sight of his own parents being brutally murdered by the two unruly customers.  
Robbie tried to follow the two murderers after they left the scene, but his search was in vain for the two killers. The funeral was hard on young Robbie, and it was even harder to try to keep his father's business running. Robbie was not the weapon-fashioner his father was, and therefore the business folded in less than a year. Jason's family did their best to help care for him, but there was little they could do. Finally, Robbie put another application to the military in. The Cleric of Ellinia promptly rejected him, and his dreams were shattered.

About two months later, he was hiking out in the fields surrounding Ellinia, when he caught sight of a group of travelers being attacked by a group of bandits. Robbie cut in with his wooden sword and beat the attackers away. Among the group was a raven-haired warrior named Shaman , who turned out to be the leader of the Clerics of Ellinia. Shaman claimed he could sense great power and goodness in him, and he immediately took him as an apprentice. The rest was history.

After joining the Clerics of Ellinia, Robbie committed the Sol Code to memory: Always help those who can't help themselves, respect your king, respect your master, remain pious, remain objective, never let your emotions take hold of your rational thinking, never start a battle with someone from behind, always do what is right, be charitable, be humble, be honest, show restraint, and perhaps most importantly, avoid death of friends and enemies unless no other course of action can be taken. The code also forbade falling in love, as it led to the loss of objectivity and clouded the emotions of the Paladin. Robbie lived by this code to the letter, and he never let his training slip away. He adhered to the code as much as Shaman, who still managed to show his emotions without clouding his judgment.

Now, he was just waiting idly for his master to show up so they could move on. Robbie's head shot up as he heard footsteps coming from an alley behind him. He quickly stood and prepared to greet Shaman. When the figure emerged, Robbie jumped in surprise and drew his weapon. The figure was not Shaman, but rather a Wild cargo, mouth covered in blood. Robbie quickly drew his weapon and raised it to fight.

The cargo raced forward toward him with an unearthly speed. Robbie quickly blocked the fang with his sword. Slashing back horizontally, Robbie's long sword deflected off the creature's armour hide, and it seemed to smile at the warrior. They continued to match each other sword for fang, until finally Robbie struck the creature in the skull, knocking it clear off the neck bone. The rest of the cargo fell to the ground and its body made a loud thump. Robbie sighed, trying to relax. What was this creature doing here? Why in Ellinia? Robbie snapped back to attention when he saw three more cargo's charge into the square. He quickly defeated each one like the first and sighed. That was four of those abominations. What was going on!

"Robbie. . ." A ghastly voice from behind him sounded. Robbie spun on his heels to see into a dark fog. The black mist radiated from a black shrouded figure in its centre; all he could make of it was that it was holding a scythe with a rather huge blade. It could only be the spirit of Death itself. "It's time."

"Never." Robbie shouted at the apparition as it drew closer to him. He held his sword in front of him, ready to block the scythe of Death should he decide to use it. Death was more than happy to comply, but Robbie blocked the blade with his long sword as he had prepared. Death swung again, and Robbie defended from the blade again. This time, however, the blade of his sword snapped clean off, and it clattered to the cobblestone ground below. Robbie pitched the hilt of his sword at Death, who simply moved his hood a couple of inches to dodge out of the way. Robbie was in trouble, no doubt about it. Death now swung his scythe again, but rather than hitting him with the blade, he knocked Robbie to the ground with the rod of his weapon.

"It is time." Death snarled at him. Robbie crawled backward and against a wall. He had nowhere to go and no weapon; how was he supposed to fight? Death drew closer, and Robbie closed his eyes, preparing himself for what lay ahead. His thoughts of blackness were halted when a blast of blue light appeared from behind Death. The apparition turned to face what caused the light, and Robbie sat in awe himself.

"Leave him alone." A cooling voice sounded. "It is me you must fight if you wish to get him." Robbie sat agape at what had just happened. The voice came from the statue; though now it was no longer a stone carving. It was alive, and it stared at Death with an objective gaze. The angel's robes were mostly white, although they were blue and purple in places. Her hair was a shiny cerulean blue, and her eyes were aqua in shade. Feathers fell from the wings of the angel with each idle flap of its wings, and the book she once held had disappeared.

"It is his time. There will be no one who shall stand in my way." Death charged at the angel, who simply flapped its wings and took to the sky. The angel quickly landed behind the spirit and smashed him in the back with her staff. Death flew forward, and he swung around at her with its scythe. The angel simply blocked the swing with her staff. Instead of swinging at Death again, she raised her hand and aimed her palm at the spirit. Blue energy surrounded her, and a rush of pure water slammed into the dark spirit, and it cried out in pain. The shriek was dark and hellish; it burned in Robbie's ears. He closed his eyes and covered his ears to try to escape from the torment. When he finally uncovered his ears and opened his eyes, he noticed the spirit of Death dissipating from the blast of power.

The angel put her arm down and sighed softly. Feathers still floated down slowly from her wings as she stood, seemingly quiet. Robbie stood up and took a couple of cautious steps forward. He stopped there; he was stunned at the angel's presence. While the angel had tremendous power, she extruded a very calm and peaceful aura. The angel slowly turned to face him, who staggered backward a step when her attention became focused on him. The angel stepped closer to Robbie slowly and calmly. She obviously meant no anger, as her face was very calm. Robbie made no move to escape, but he did keep his guard up. Finally, the angel was within arm's reach of the young squire, and she approached even closer. Robbie found himself gazing directly into the cool aqua eyes of the angel; he suddenly had an feeling of odd discomfort.

"Do not fear me." The angel said, softly; so soft that it was scarcely more than a whisper. Robbie's discomfort quickly faded as he felt compelled to listen to the being. "Are you okay?" She asked, looking him over.

"Yes, I'm fine." Robbie replied, voice trembling lightly. "Thank you for saving me." The angel smiled, and drew her face closer to Robbie's. The New Cleric soon found his arms and back warmer than before; he glanced to see why. The angel had wrapped her wings around him lovingly. This was very strange.

"I'm here to help. Never forget that." She drew him into a hug. Robbie, who had no idea what was going on, did little to resist. He was too tired and confused to understand what was happening. After the angel withdrew from her hug, Robbie tried to form words.

"Who are you?"

"My name is not important."

"I don't understand."

"I didn't expect you to." She hugged him again, and everything went white.

Robbie snapped awake in his billet. The room was still dark; he didn't know what time it was. Robbie sat forward and placed his head in his left hand.

"The same dream. . . again. How many days in a row have I had this dream?" Robbie muttered quietly to himself. He tried to think of the answer to his own question. He had lost count of how many times he had this dream days ago. He sighed. He couldn't discern whether the dream was good or bad, a premonition or just a dream. It couldn't be a premonition; Shaman had always told him it was only the high Elders who could see the future, not Mages. "Who is that angel? What does she want from me?" Robbie sighed again. The angel's words kept running through his head, mystifying him further. The words were calming, and his nerves were soon settled. He lay his head back down into his pillow. He figured he'd have time to try to sort this dream out some other time.

Robbie was shoved awake by shaman, who was now yelling at him for sleeping in. Robbie sat forward, yawning. The Sleepy queer looked out the window; it was scarcely dawn, and Shaman was griping at him.

"It's about time, Robbie. You may be a good pupil, but you sleep too much."

"Well, can you blame me after all the drills you put me through? It's pretty taxing on the body and mind."

"Exactly. That's what training is supposed to do. Now get dressed and meet me outside. I want to go over some early morning sword fighting techniques with you."

"Okay, I'll meet you outside in five minutes."

"Make it three." Shaman ordered, leaving the room. Robbie yawned again as he rolled out of his covers; Shaman was acting unusually nervous. Perhaps Shaman had informed him privately of something. Either way, Robbie didn't have time to think about that, but his thoughts inadvertently wandered back to his dream. It was only a dream, but it felt real; like it could happen. He swore he could still feel the warmth of the angel's wings wrapped around him as he slipped on his clothes. He sighed. He must be mad; his code forbade him from letting his emotions cloud his judgment, and he was letting it happen now. Shaking the dream out of his head, he quickly grabbed his long sword and dashed out of his billet to meet up with Shaman.

"Nice of you to join me, Robbie. It took you long enough."

"Sorry, Shaman. Shall we begin?" Robbie asked, unsheathing his sword.

"Of course." Shaman replied, doing the same to his weapon. After crossing each other's weapons, they began to duel ferociously. The duel lasted for minutes; both fighters swung hard and fast, striking with amazing power and accuracy. The steel clashing could be heard quite some distance away, and the sparks flying everywhere were evidence of the intensity of the two participants. Shaman's face showed a grim determination to school Robbie at the art of sword fighting, and Robbie's continence showed his stubbornness in obtaining victory. Finally, after Robbie swung at Shaman vertically, Shaman sidestepped and quickly swooped in, managing to get his sword point to Robbie's neck. "And that is where you get your head taken off your shoulders." Shaman stated, pulling his weapon away.

"Good. It's one less thing to carry around." Robbie replied. Both of them laughed heartily.

"You're good, Robbie. You really are one of the best swordsmen in the kingdom; you're the only one who can last more than forty seconds against me."

"What about Jason?"

"Yeah, well. . . he can last as long as you. I'll bet you could beat him, though."

"I doubt it, Shaman." Robbie sighed. "Jason's pretty skilled with a sword."

"Round two?" Shaman asked, redrawing his sword. Robbie smiled, unsheathing his weapon and giving a look of 'you're not going to beat me again'. The two troublemakers leapt forward and continued to hone their skills against one another.


End file.
